Jumping to Conclusions
by Gandalf3213
Summary: There is no more time for Arthur and Merlin to figure out their relationship. An old friend, Matthias, pays Camelot a visit, and uses Merlin in the cruelest way possible. Can Arthur forgive this percieved betrayal? Will he save Merlin in time? Slash.
1. Arrival

_To love is to suffer. To avoid suffering, one must not love. But, then, one suffers from not loving. So, to love is to suffer, to not love is to suffer, to suffer is to suffer. To be happy is to love, to be happy, then, is to suffer, but suffering makes one unhappy, therefore, to be unhappy, one must love, or love to suffer, or suffer too much happiness - I hope you're getting this down. **Woody Allen**_

.***.

Merlin had never seen Arthur happier.

"Matthias is due today, Merlin." Arthur said as they walked through the common together, Arthur holding his sword and Merlin holding a wooden version. For a month now Arthur had been teaching him to fight, not quite trusting Merlin not to take his head off with a real metal sword (and, really, Merlin didn't blame him).

Merlin was surprised at how patient Arthur was when he was teaching, explaining how to dodge and twist, demonstrating, reminding, and finally breaking Merlin's defenses to show that they could be broken, whipping his sword to within three inches of Merlin's face, but no further. Arthur was the more beat up of the two after their practice sessions, and the bruises and small cuts Merlin noticed when helping the young prince into his armor made something odd flutter in his chest.

If only he would stop talking about Matthias! "I know, Arthur."

His tone must have left something to be desired, for it was then that Arthur turned to look at him, expression puzzled, and Merlin turned his face away. He knew that his relationship with Arthur went past that of a master and a servant, or even a ruler and a subject. Arthur looked upon him as an advisor, and Merlin could not let his feelings get in the way on that subject.

He'd never met Matthias, but felt he knew him from Arthur's many stories. The two had been close in childhood, had, indeed, had the same tutor for many years. As they grew up, they grew apart, with Arthur attending to his duties as heir apparent and Matthias going home to a small Shire where he played overlord.

Something about the stories, about the mention of the man, made Merlin's skin prickle with unease. There was an underlying level of cruelty to everything the man did. He'd once saved Arthur's life, but only after putting it in danger. He'd once courted a girl that Arthur was smitten with. He'd once committed a series of petty crimes for fun.

But now Arthur turned to Merlin, wary. "He is my friend, Merlin. I will not stand you being rude in his presence."

"No! Of course not." And, because Merlin was not known for keeping his opinions to himself. "But sire, he sounds…" cruel. Mean-spirited. Jealous. "Unkind."

Well, that went too far. A servant disrespecting a nobleman was unheard of, and though Merlin had done it before, and Arthur had listened to him before, on this matter he would hear no word, even when his own conscience was murmuring the same thing. Matthias had saved his life!

But all the angry words in the world would not be equal to action. They'd reached the sparring grounds, and Arthur turned to Merlin, face unreadable. "Ready?"

There was something in his tone, in his inflection, that made Merlin want to say 'no', but instead he held up his fake sword, suddenly aware that it was totally inadequate against the durable, metal monstrosity Arthur was carrying. "Yes."

Merlin learned, then, why Arthur was undefeated when it came to matters of battle. He understood why the knights, even the older, bigger, stronger ones, all feared sparring with him. He understood the rumors of greatness that surrounded the prince.

Because Arthur, this time, did not hold back. He swung at Merlin fiercely, in his mind protecting his friend's honor, and Merlin's sword splintered on impact. He stumbled backward, dodging and ducking as Arthur's sword came at him again, again, again.

He was pinned in twelve seconds, the useless sword four paces away, Arthur's blade at his exposed throat. And his face! It wasn't the face of the kind young man Merlin had come to know, had come to (it was true, there was no use denying it) love. This face was hard, cold, calculating, and Merlin could have been any other enemy in the world.

The blade rested against Merlin's skin, ripped it, tore it, and Merlin could feel blood trickle down his neck. "Arthur." He murmured, keeping his voice low. "Arthur, let me up."

It was the words, or perhaps the blood, that did it. Arthur blinked, staring at Merlin's neck as if he'd never seen anything like it. Merlin pushed himself up, only to find that his ribs, his abdomen, his chest, were all screaming with agony. He rested for a moment, staring at Arthur.

For his part, the prince looked chagrined. He'd taught children, for God's sake. He knew how to spar without injuring someone. Yet here in front of him was proof that he'd let emotions cloud his judgment. Emotions had no place in battle. "Merlin..."

"It's fine." Merlin pushed himself all the way to his feet, trying to keep in the hiss of pain that wanted to make itself known. "I shouldn't have said that about your friend. You were right to be angry." He pressed a hand to his bleeding neck, surprised at the strong flow of blood. "Go again, sire?" He couldn't quite look at Arthur, couldn't quite get his heart rate under control. The knowledge that Arthur could have killed him with a flick of the wrist was still wreaking havoc with his nervous system.

"You idiot." Arthur drew a handkerchief out of one of his many pockets, wet it with the tip of his tongue, and pressed it against the cut. "Keep pressure on it."

The feel of a handkerchief should not make Merlin feel like this, hot and cold at the same time, dizzy with something other than nausea and blood loss.

Arthur would never say he was sorry, though perhaps this situation warranted it. He'd just attacked his servant, his Merlin. But instead he stood staring at the young man, watching him assess his injuries, watching him mentally tally up how this would impact his day.

Just to give himself something to do other than stare at Merlin (why was it that he could stare at Merlin for hours and never get bored? That was odd, wasn't it?) Arthur went over and picked up the splintered wooden sword. "Perhaps you're ready for a metal blade."

"Really?" This response was eager, and Arthur smiled.

"Well, a dull one. You're still liable to chop my arm off."

"Or my own arm."

"True. Perhaps we should just stick to the wood."

"Oh, come off it, we both know you'll give me a real one."

Merlin really did know him too well, but the back-and-forth they had gotten going at least assured Arthur that there would be no permanent bad blood between them. For some reason (and Arthur would not explore into that strange, inexplicable feeling he felt whenever he saw Merlin, that strange double-beat of the heart, the cold, clammy sensation that came over his skin) Arthur could not abide the thought of a servant other than Merlin. He could not abide the thought of Merlin being out of his life.

Which is one of the reasons why the next few weeks were destined to wreak havoc on them both. The next few weeks would prove that Arthur should have listened to Merlin's worries, to his own misgivings about Matthias and his character. Within the next few weeks, both would understand exactly how much they were willing to surrender to keep each other in their lives.

And, despite all their sacrifices, it still may not be enough.

A young servant entered the training grounds, ran up to Arthur. "Sir Matthias is here!" He cried, sealing their fate.

.***.

"How'd you convince your father to postpone the feast?"

"I said you'd be exhausted from the difficult ride. Besides, isn't this better?" Arthur looked up at his childhood friend, resisting the urge to look away. Something, some small, integral part of his face, or perhaps just his eyes, had changed in their years apart. Matthias was still tall, broad, dark and foreboding in a way that made women fall at his feet. But it was his eyes, the one that followed people around the room like they were prey and he was just waiting to eat them.

The eyes that were now following Merlin. Arthur noticed it, but did not bring it up. After all, had he not seen other visiting men, dignitaries and servants alike, watch Merlin the same way? Watch _him_ the same way? He knew of the strange desires some men held for the feel of another man (and wasn't he among them, at least where Merlin was concerned?)

But there was something in Matthias's gaze that was hungry, vicious, staring at Merlin like he was a piece of meat, or small game that Matthias was pursuing on a hunt. And Arthur had the impulsive instinct to hustle Merlin out of the room, or else to leap to his defense, snarl at Matthias for staring at his Merlin (and when did Merlin become _his_ Merlin, really?)

"Merlin," he called, keeping his voice light and jovial, "Why don't you just leave the food here and call it a night. You can take the plates down to the kitchens in the morning."

The grateful smile that flashed across his servants face let Arthur know that the younger man had not been unaware of Matthias's gaze, and he was made uncomfortable by it. A thousand thoughts ran through Arthur's mind in the span of a second, the most important concerning the fact that if Merlin did not want Matthias's advances, would he appreciate any from him, Arthur, should he work up the courage in the future?

"Goodnight, sire." Arthur said, making a small bow to Arthur before turning to Matthias. "Sir Matthias." He left then, closing the door quietly behind him.

"He's no trouble to look at, is he?" Matthias said, making a rude gesture with his hands that caused Arthur to sit up straighter, press his lips together. He did not want another man all over Merlin, especially, illogically, not Matthias.

He let silence hang between them until Matthias broke it by mentioning a boy they used to know in childhood. Arthur latched onto this subject gladly, for he did consider Matthias one of his greatest friends and he did, after all, owe the other man his life. Still, when the night ended and Matthias retired to his own chambers, Arthur could not help but remember the hungry look Matthias wore when gazing at his man-servant, and he could not shake the feeling that this visit from an old friend would bring him nothing but woe.

.***.

Matthias had an uncanny knack for getting lost at the exact right times. He took a right in the huge castle, and then a left, and suddenly he was not near the bedchambers at all but in the kitchens, where a young servant who had been given an unexpected gift with a night off had passed along that gift to some of the scullery maids. Merlin was sitting at the great table, watching as the cutlery, the plates, the mugs, all washed themselves in the great basin.

When he heard Matthias's gasp from the top of the stairs, everything crashed into the sink and Merlin was on his feet, but not before Matthias was down the steps and had caught Merlin by the collar.

"You're a sorcerer, then? A magic-wielder?" He shook the slight boy until Merlin was nodding, eyes wide and terrified. "Who knows?" Matthias put his face close to Merlin's and said in a low, deathly whisper, "Who. Knows?"

"N-no one!" Merlin stuttered, not even trying to pull away from the knight's grip.

"Not Arthur? Not the king?" Matthias's thoughts were racing. He'd seen the way Merlin's touch lingered on Arthur's hand, had taken notice of the way Arthur had glared at him when he caught Matthias staring at the young servant. There was a love connection there, and if there wasn't then one would start soon.

And what better way to ruin the man he'd always hated then to steal the love of his life?

"If Uther Pendragon knew that his son was knowingly harboring a sorcerer, he would have no choice but to uphold the letter of the law, especially if that revelation was made public." Matthias's grin was wolfish somehow, animalistic. "You would both be put to death."

"But Arthur doesn't know!" Merlin gasped. Arthur had sworn that he and Matthias were friends. What sort of friend wants to see the other killed?

"That doesn't matter. If Camelot believes that Arthur harbored you knowing the magic that you posses, they will be clamoring for his blood. Uther will have to either bend to their wishes or risk the lives that are wasted in rebellion." Matthias gazed into Merlin's frightened eyes and smirked, "I will keep my peace on this matter." Matthias said, and Merlin looked so pitifully grateful that the knight was sure his plan was going to work. "For a price."

"I…I have nothing." Merlin said, looking frightened again. What could he give such a powerful man in exchange for silence on such a large secret?

Matthias drew Merlin close and murmured something in his ear that made Merlin first stiffen, then nod. He could not take the risk of exposing his secret. He found he cared little for his own life, but the thought of intertwining Arthur's fate with his, of being the cause of his friend's death…Merlin would not allow that. His heart would break first.

So he acquiesced to Matthias's dark deal, feeling a cold knot of dread form in his stomach along with another, very different feeling. Resolve. He would carry out his end of the bargain until Matthias left Camelot.

He had to.

**.***.**

**this was all written in response to something that happened in our own lives, and is dedicated to some dear friends who've had to take a lot of flak recently for loving someone they're not "supposed" to love. yes, arthur and merlin and matthias are all gay, in their own ways. yes, matthias is pretty much evil personified. yes, arthur is going to be pissed when he finds out. will he help merlin or leave him to rot? who knows?**

**anyways, please review.**


	2. The Plot Thickens

_"I gotta know if your sweet love is gonna save me." **The Eagles**_

.***.

Arthur was in a foul mood, most of which had to do with Merlin's sudden disappearing act.

He swept through the castle, intent on getting to Gaius's rooms. All the while, worry crept into his rage. What if Merlin had taken ill in the night? What if some accident had befallen him? The servant was so clumsy that Arthur didn't put it past him to take his own head off by falling down the stairs. So many worst-case scenarios were running through his head that he didn't see Gwen until he'd already run her over.

"Oh!" He said, scrambling off the servant girl and looking around at the mess he'd caused. Gwen had been carrying a basket of clothes to be mended, and now they were scattered all over the floor. Without thinking, he began to grab at the clothes, stuffing them back into the basket.

"Sire…Prince Arthur, it is alright. I can take care of the clothes." Gwen peered at him from beneath her dark lashes. "Where are you going with such single-mindedness that you don't even take notice of your surroundings?"

"I have not seen hide nor hair of Merlin all day." Arthur said, "Have you an idea where he may be?"

Gwen cocked her head to the side, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Are you two finally stopping this charade? Because most of the castle has a pool going on what week you two will get together, and I bet on next Tuesday, so if you can just hold off a little longer…"

"A pool?" Arthur asked, mouth springing open against his will. "What are you betting on?"

"When you and Merlin will finally stop dancing around each other and admit your feelings. Really, Arthur, if you didn't want anyone to know about it you could have been a bit more subtle."

Arthur straightened up, feeling indignant. "Does everyone know of my…my infatuation?"

"No." Gwen said lightly. "I'm fairly certain that Merlin has absolutely no idea." She winked. "But if you're planning on speeding things along, I saw him slip into Sir Matthias's chamber just now."

"Matthias?" Arthur mused aloud, still trying to process all of this information (the whole castle knew of his mooning over Merlin? He would never hear the end of this!) "What is he doing in there? He's _my _servant!"

Gwen shrugged, turning away. "A servant is compelled to obey orders given by anyone above them. If Matthias told Merlin to do something and he refused, even to go to you, sire, then he would pay dearly for it later."

"You're right, you're right." Arthur ran a hand through his hair. "I'll be going then, Gwen. Thanks."

"No problem. Just remember – I'm betting on next Tuesday!" Arthur waved a hand over his shoulder, glad that his back was to the girl so she couldn't see him blushing scarlet.

He didn't bother knocking on Matthias's door – in all honesty, he didn't expect to find anyone in there. The hour was late, and he was sure that Matthias had gone down to the jousting field and Merlin to the kitchens long before he managed to track them to the chamber. He was wrong.

He'd been prepared to say…something…to Merlin. Something along the lines of what Gwen (and, apparently, most of the castle) was hinting at. Something about the fact that whenever Merlin was near him he could concentrate on nothing but the way the other man's body moved in the sunlight. Something about the way Arthur was constantly thinking about Merlin, about talking to him, hunting with him, and being with him. About the way he never wanted to be around anyone else.

And maybe, maybe, he would mention the jealousy he felt every time he saw Matthias sneaking looks at his man.

All that flew out the window when he saw Merlin on his knees in front of Matthias, doing something he'd only done in Arthur's most private fantasies.

"What are you doing?" Somehow, he'd expected this from Matthias. Matthias, who had always taken the most pleasure in things that made Arthur uncomfortable – watching animals suffer once they'd shot them while hunting, rather than put them out of their misery; bullying smaller kids by using his stature of his fists – there had always been a note of cruelty in his every action, a note that Arthur had overlooked because of that long-ago day when Matthias had saved Arthur's life.

But Merlin…Merlin had always struck him as something else entirely. Sweet. Naïve. Pure and innocent, in action, thought, and word. And here he was, avoiding Arthur's gaze, red creeping up cheeks, neck, ears, as he pulled away from Matthias's large, heavy hand.

It was Matthias who said something first, putting a hand on top of Merlin's head to keep him in a kneel. "Arthur," the young man's voice was calm, as if they were saying their good mornings while breaking their fasts. "Imagine meeting you here."

Arthur looked at Merlin, feeling suddenly humiliated at the words he'd been about to say. He had sought out the young servant to proclaim his undying love for him! "Merlin, if I'd known these were the positions you find most comfortable I needn't have bothered training you as a servant at all."

It was as if Arthur had slapped Merlin across the face. He looked so stunned, confused, disoriented, upset, and still he was looking everywhere but directly at Arthur. He made as if to get to his feet but Matthias's hand was still strong, still pushed him back onto the hard stone of the ground. Merlin's knees were bleeding. None of the three men in the room noticed.

"Why this charade?" Arthur was surprised at his voice – steady and quiet, the tone he'd been trying to master from years of hearing his father use it against him whenever his only son became a disappointment. "Why pretend you can't look at me? After this – a man whose rank is so far above yours you shouldn't even be looking him in the eye!"

"His gaze is aimed quite a bit lower, Arthur, I can assure you." Matthias's words made Merlin turn a shade of red Arthur had never seen before, and finally the servant made eye contact with the master.

"I cannot…I have no excuse, sire." Merlin said, and if Arthur had been in his right mind he would have noticed that accent, the adorable accent that came out whenever Merlin was anxious, or scared, laced between these words.

But Arthur was not in his right mind, or he would not have continued, "No excuse? Well, I hope so, because I for one cannot think of an excuse for you to be messing around with a superior, an old friend, who is a visiting dignitary who could help form an alliance for Camelot. Do you want to blow this, Merlin? Ruin everything for the sake of a tryst in front of the whole of the castle? Did you know that everyone saw you coming into his room this morning? You're nothing but a common prostitute!"

Finally, Merlin's eyes met Arthur's and held the gaze beseechingly. "No! Arthur, please, you can't think -"

"What I think," Arthur said slowly, "Is that you'd better stick to 'sire' from now on. If you can manage that level of professionalism."

Arthur's turn was robotic, still reeling from the shock of this betrayal, and when a small sound came from the boy behind him he whipped back around, anger and hurt pouring from his every word. "I trusted you! I trusted you with my life! I called you friend, even though it earned me mocking from my own knights, because what kind of prince befriends a servant? You disgust me," Arthur spat, eyes turning into slits as he gazed at Merlin, who looked quite near tears, "You disgust me, and you'd better find another position away from Camelot, because I don't want people like you working for me."

"Sire…" Merlin tried one more time, but then the pressure on the top of his head suddenly let up and he was being dragged to his feet. Matthias's tongue found its way into his mouth, and it was all the young man could do to keep breathing.

Still, his eyes were on the door when it banged shut. His salvation had literally walked out on him.

**.***.**

**okay, look, Arthur is our favorite charater. really. he has this kindness about him that he doesn't want others to see, and he truly cares, and in every incarnation of this legand he's always our favorite. but he is also is love. and his love seems to be with someone else. so before you guys start bashing Arthur think about it for a minute. what would you do?**

**and please review.**


	3. The Pain of Betrayal

_"He is inhuman," he said at last, "But why should he be human? Are angels supposed to be human?" **Lancelot about King Arthur**_

.***.

By the end of the week, Arthur's temper was such that the servants would scurry by him in the corridor, his father would send him away on inane missions whenever he entered the room, and his knights would quake in their boots whenever he showed up for sparring practice.

And Merlin…Merlin had arrived in Arthur's chambers after the incident with Matthias, shaking like a leaf from the stress of the day and from his terror at what Arthur's reaction to his appearance might be. His fears were justified: Arthur took one look at him and sent him from the room, saying that Merlin was no longer his manservant, and if he had anything to say about he wouldn't be staying in Camelot at all.

So Arthur was left to his own devices, having driven everyone around him away, and he found that this gave him ample time to brood. He analyzed his feelings, something he didn't do very often and would deny over and over again if anyone asked him, but he was trying to figure out why exactly he was so angry at this unexpected turn of events.

He'd caught Merlin with his oldest friend. The fact that they were both young men wasn't the issue – hadn't Arthur been tracking down Merlin to pursue similar ends? And indeed, Matthias had always shown much more interest in men than women, Arthur himself could attest to that.

It was more the fact that there was something burning in him, like a white-hot ember that flared at the sight of Merlin doing such intimate things with another man. Why, oh why couldn't it have been he, Arthur?

And then he'd get even more confused, because who was Merlin, anyway, but an extremely clumsy and rather incompetent manservant who was constantly getting in loads of trouble. Couldn't Arthur have found someone else to heap his affections on?

Of course, what Gwen or Gaius or any other "wise" person would say was that Arthur didn't get to choose who he fell in love with, it just happened. And then Arthur would have to point out that there was no way he could be in love with Merlin, because the latter was just a manservant and he was heir apparent to the throne of Camelot, and anyway it was highly unfair that he didn't get to choose who he fell in love with, because then maybe he wouldn't hurt so much.

And that was the real problem, wasn't it? Seeing Merlin on his knees in front of his old friend had made something inside of him burst, or break, until he felt nothing but a deep, throbbing ache all day long, a physical ailment like being struck too many times by a sword, or being thrown from his horse. And now Arthur understood the word _heartbreak_. He truly felt as if his heart was irreparably scarred.

Take, for example, that incident with his knights the day after the betrayal. He, Arthur, was highly regarded as one of the best teachers in Camelot. The best in the kingdom at fighting on horse and on foot, and the best jouster anywhere, he'd taught children as young as four how to be good knights. And he was gentle with them, pointing out mistakes and breaking defenses and always smiling.

Merlin used to come to watch him teach, Arthur remembered suddenly as he looked at the young knights in front of him, ranging in ages from four to twenty. Merlin used to say that he was different among the young children, gentler, kinder, and it was while he was teaching that Merlin could see that Arthur would be a good and fair king.

The memory of Merlin only made Arthur angrier still, and the ball of fire that had settled into the pit of his stomach flared painfully. "Who first?" He grumbled, holding up his sword in the ready position. "Who wants to challenge me?"

A burly twenty-year-old, Percy, who had long admired Arthur even if the young prince was thought of as something of a prat in the kingdom, stepped forward, his own sword up to meet the challenge.

Arthur beat him bloody. Perhaps it was the thought of Merlin's wide eyes when Arthur had walked into the bedroom, or of Merlin's quiet voice begging for his job earlier in the morning, but something fueled his fury and he attacked, forgetting to draw in his blows to cause the least amount of damage.

Percy never had a chance, and the other knights gathered there, even the senior ones who'd been working with Arthur for years, were taken aback by the young prince's spinning sword. He really was an excellent fighter, and soon enough he had Percy on the ground, sword raised over his throat, poised for the killing blow.

"Sire!" A voice cried, and that familiar title (after all, Merlin had called him that twenty times a day, thirty…) made Arthur blink, look down, and only Percy could see the confusion race across the prince's face.

"My lord?" Percy whispered, confused, and though he was hurting _everywhere_, though he was bleeding from three different places, he suddenly felt a rush of sympathy towards his attacker. Arthur looked truly lost. "My lord, is something wrong?"

Everything was wrong, but Arthur didn't say this, just rolled off the knight-to-be, lips pressed hard together. He told Leon to take over the session and sped away, towards the stables, because perhaps a horse could carry him far enough away to outrun the feeling of anger and pain that was threatening to consume him.

.***.

Merlin didn't know what to do.

If it was only his life at stake, he would have exposed Matthias for the bully and villain he was, told Arthur or Gaius of even the king if it would make the torment stop, but Matthias had already sworn so many times that if Merlin snitched that he would tell the king that Arthur had been harboring a sorcerer. Truth or not, the king would have to follow his own laws: a zero tolerance policy against magic-users and those who protected them.

And Merlin was too much in love with his master to let him die for his sake.

Still, the look of fury and open hurt on Arthur's face when Merlin had gone to him made Merlin's own heart ache. What the young prince must think of him, gallivanting around with a childhood friend right under his nose!

If Arthur knew that he, Merlin, was being coerced, that every second with Matthias was agony, that he wanted to be with Arthur so much he thought he would explode with longing…what would he do? Arthur, who had never shown interest in other men, let alone a manservant who he clearly disliked. Hadn't he called Merlin's actions the height of disloyalty?

No, the best Merlin could hope for was for the torment to be over, but he knew in his heart that Arthur would never, could never forgive him. Arthur was a good person, a better person than anyone in Camelot really knew, and he counted on those close to him to have similar morals and values.

How could he stand to be around Merlin, knowing what he had done?

But even if Arthur wouldn't take him back as manservant, let alone consider him as a lover, Merlin still needed a way to escape Matthias, who took every opportunity to corner him. The physical pain of the actions he could bear, and even the humiliation he could stand as long as he kept his mind on something else (usually Arthur, Arthur, who he was beginning to think of as his guardian angel, keeping him away from Matthias's torment).

It was the threats that made him want to curl into a ball and die, for whenever Matthias entered him he would whisper horrible things in his ear about what would happen if Merlin ever told anyone about their encounters. Gaius, the sweet old man, would be killed, and Matthias knew how to make it look like an accident. He would accuse Gwen of witchcraft, and how very simple it would be, too, for it would be a young lord's word against a servant girl.

And Arthur…always threats against Arthur, of exposing Merlin's secret and letting him be burned by his own father, of leading him on a hunt and killing him in the middle of nowhere, of poison and long falls and being trampled by horses.

And Merlin would wonder how this man had ever been Arthur's friend. He had so many different deaths for the young prince planned that Merlin could tell that Matthias truly hated Arthur Pendragon and everything he stood for.

But all that worked very well. Merlin didn't tell a soul, and as the week passed into the weekend, Matthias seemed to be getting away with his evil plan of killing the prince's soul (for that was his motive all along…) Merlin didn't tell a soul. For four days, he was forced to do terrible things with Matthias. He couldn't eat, could barely sleep, and was jumpy all the time for fear that Matthias would come around the corner and beckon to him again.

He thought that, perhaps, he would be able to survive it if he had Arthur by his side, but he was utterly alone. Alone with the knowledge that even after Matthias left, he and Arthur would forever be estranged.

And that was the biggest regret Merlin had in his whole life.

**.***.**

**i really hate writting these chapters. really. we want them to lvoe each other as much as you guys do, but they have to be a little bit stupid first. we promise that they'll get together eventually. a lot of bad stuff just has to happen before then.**

**and please review.**


	4. Outside Source

_"Listening is the first step and the last step." **Cantus Fraggle**_

.***.

It was Percy who stopped it.

It was strange that it was not Gwen, who so adored Merlin, who loved him for his candor and his innocence, for his loyalty to Arthur, for his wit and intelligence and kind heart. No, Gwen, was busy with Morgana, who was having headaches so often and with such force that she was either lying down in bed or heaving into a basin. Her mistress was getting thinner, smaller, and Gwen couldn't go chasing after Merlin and Arthur, trying to get them to make up again. This time they were on their own.

And Gaius was busy with the same problem, feverishly preparing every remedy for headaches he'd ever made or heard of, and if he noticed Merlin was moving slower than usual, noticed that he wasn't with Arthur all the live-long day, then he didn't say anything of it.

Arthur…well, Arthur was hurt, and licking his wounds and broken heart. He couldn't even see Merlin cross the courtyard without feeling physically ill.

So it was Percy, the young knight Arthur had nearly killed while training, who saved the day when he was patrolling the corridors one night. Well, technically, he was _supposed_ to be patrolling the corridors and was instead sitting on the a windowsill, trying to read a book of poetry in the flickering light of his torch flame.

It was for a girl. Usually, when a man reads a book of poetry, a girl is behind it. Truth be told, Percy found himself mouthing the words to himself as his finger skimmed along the page to hold his spot. Not to sound them out, as he usually did with his meager education and few reading skills, but because the words on the page were so beautifully crafted he felt the need to hold them in his mouth and savor them.

The castle was still, and Percy liked this time of night. Three in the morning, when the night owls had gone to sleep and the early birds hadn't yet gotten up for their busy schedules. Percy found himself nodding off over the book, his hair falling in front of his face every time he did.

The castle was still, though, which is why Percy started when he heard the fierce whisper, the low moan of pain. He had the presence of mind not to jump to his feet – he was in full armor, and the sound would have alerted any intruder. No, he got up with agonizing slowness, one joint at a time, all the while listening to the muffled sounds in the corridor.

"I told you to come to my chambers!"

"Gaius needed me. The Lady Morgana is keeping him very busy -" There was an intake of breath at the end of this, as if the speaker had just been cuffed about the neck.

The next part was in such a menacing low whisper that Percy had to strain to hear it. "You remember how easily I said I could kill that old fool Gaius? And what of your precious prince? Little Arthur wouldn't be so becoming burning alive, would he?"

"Please…" The other person breathed, voice catching, and Percy moved the last three inches quickly. Fully erect, he grabbed his torch and started down the corridor, whistling as if there was no problem at all, as if he was on his usual patrols and hadn't just overheard a short conversation that had made his blood turn icy cold.

"Sir Matthias!" He said in mock surprise, eyes gliding over the servant Merlin before resting on his companion. In that instant, he noted that Merlin looked awful. His clothes were hanging askew, as if someone had tried to jerk them from his body, and there was a ring of bruises around his neck that almost certainly had come from a hand.

Of course he'd heard about Arthur and Merlin's falling out. They fought once a week, and he suspected that this tiff wouldn't last any longer than the others. The only problem with it was that he'd been in the pool with the servants, trying to predict when the two parties would stop beating around the bush and get together.

This scene here in the corridor, past the witching hour, past the time of the full moon, was making the small hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. And he didn't know _why_. Perhaps it was the naked terror he saw in Merlin's eyes. More likely it was the cold hatred he saw in Matthias's.

"No one's supposed to be wandering the corridors at night. It's dangerous, you see." He reached out an arm and, quick s a flash, pulled Merlin towards him. The servant had no more meat to him than a child… "I'll escort him to his chambers. We're already at yours, I see." He nodded at the door behind Matthias's head.

Never before had he had such a gaze directed at his own self – loathing, disgust, anger. But Matthias quickly smoothed it over to become the man he'd seen around Camelot this past week – a mild, intelligent childhood friend of the prince. "I was only out of my chambers because I heard him -" a finger point at Merlin, "stumbling around the corridors after hours. Perhaps the boy needs a reminder about the castle's curfew? Good night." This last was so abrupt that Percy actually winced as the door slammed.

He looked at Merlin, who had been staring up at him and looked away when Percy met his gaze. "Thank you," He murmured at the floor.

"Now look here." Percy said, whispering fiercely as they moved down the corridor. "I've heard the rumors. You two are not the first lovers I've caught after hours. Not even the first two men. But do you know what you're doing to the prince? Don't look at me like that!" Percy whispered savagely at the blank stare he received. "You know as well as anybody that he's been over the moon for you since you came to Camelot. Why are you taking up with his old mate?"

"I'm not!" Merlin whispered back, then closed his mouth tight, staring straight ahead. Percy thought for a moment about reprimanding the servant for talking back to a knight of the realm, but he thought better of it. It was late (or early?) and they were both tired.

"And did I hear him threaten the prince?" Percy raged. Merlin cringed at his tone but didn't deny it. "I did! And it doesn't sound like the first threat he's made either. Why haven't you told anyone? Why haven't you brought him to Arthur's attention?"

Merlin said nothing, just gazed at the ground, and Percy knew that he needed to drive the point home. "You don't understand. You can't understand. But Arthur is Camelot's only hope. He's a far sight better than his father. He understands the needs of the common people. He _likes_ his people, which is more than I can say for any king or future king alive today."

"I know that," Merlin muttered, "You think I don't know that? I know Arthur."

"Then don't take up with his friends." Percy said flatly, "even if he wasn't a prince and you his servant, it's not right to go with your best mate's old friends. Creates bad blood." They were rounding the corner to the servants quarters when Percy's foot caught on the flagstone. He wrenched it free, swearing under his breath. Merlin, moving quicker to keep up with the bigger man, wasn't so lucky. When he tripped he fell hard, and only years of being the clumsiest boy anyone had ever met saved him from waking the whole castle. He bit back his scream.

"You really are a mess." Percy rolled his eyes as he lifted Merlin up by his tunic. The tunic that rode up to reveal such a mess of bruises and welts that Percy let go and backed away as if he'd been burned.

"It's nothing." Merlin said too quickly, pulling back down his shirt and not meeting Percy's eyes. "Just an accident. It's nothing."

Percy almost retorted but thought better of it, shutting his mouth quick and breathing hard through his nose. Why, oh why did it always have to be him? He could have gone his whole life without falling into a situation like this one.

"We're at your quarters, Merlin." He muttered, using the servant's name as if they were friends. And why not? For what Percy had to do next, they might as well be friends. They might as well be the best of friends.

.***.

Percy was not a bad man. He was actually a very good man. He was in on the servant's pool because he was good friends with the servants. He loved letting children play with his sword (as long as it was dull). He skipped meals every week so he could give his food to some of the beggars he saw on the street.

But he did have a healthy fear of Arthur. The prince had nearly killed him during training the week before. He was the best jouster in the kingdom, the best swordsman in all the kingdoms. He was a force to be reckoned with.

So when he tried to talk to the heir apparent about Merlin, he tried to do it with the utmost care.

"Prince Arthur! May I have a word with you?"

"Hurry up, Percy, I'm late for dinner with my father and several visiting dignitaries." Percy ran to catch up with Arthur, who was pulling off his armor even as he raced through the castle.

"It's about the servant Merlin and your friend Matthias." He warned, and then wished he hadn't.

"I don't want to hear the rumors flying about those two. Merlin fell from my good graces when he took up with Matthias."

"But sire, I believe that Merlin is being…well, that he's being hurt by this relationship."

"Serves him right."

"You don't mean that, Arthur." Percy said, so exasperated that he addressed the prince by his first name only, earning him a raised eyebrow. "You must know that there is something about Sir Matthias that is…well, he's a little off."

"I will not hear my friend talked of in that manner." Arthur warned.

"You care for Merlin. Please, my lord, don't go through the show of not knowing what I am talking about. You were the one who was not discrete about your infatuation in the first place."

"You cannot speak to me like this, Percy!"

"I am trying to save a man's life!" Percy spat back, throwing a hand in front of Arthur, blocking him from his quarters. "You think I am exaggerating? Merlin will die if you let Matthias go on in this manner. He will _die_."

"Out of my way, Percy." Arthur said, his voice low and menacing enough to make Percy move, feeling slightly foolish as Arthur stared at him in a cool, aloof way. "Get out of my sight."

Percy left then, because he wanted to have his job in the morning. Because he knew that he'd already been too bold in his speech. Because he'd seen a glimmer in Arthur's eyes, something that told him that he wasn't being ignored, that Arthur would act on his advice before long.

**.***.**

**yeah, we needed Percy back for one more chapter. he's not supposed to be a major character or anything. just an outsider who has a good head on his shoulders. anyway, he's a catalyst, and arthur should be taking up the cause sometime soon...****at least, we think he will be. only time can tell. **

**you don't know how much your reviews have meant to us. really. they're what keeps us going on a hard story like this.**


	5. Appeasement

_We got to hold on to what we've got, it doesn't make a difference if we make it or not. We got each other, and that's a lot for love. We'll give it a shot. **Bon Jovi**_

.***.

Merlin stood off to the side as he watched the sparring. Arthur liked to end each week thus, by fighting anyone who wanted to informally, on the playing field. Anyone who had the time would wander by and watch, for their Prince at top form was truly a wonder to behold as he swung and pierced, driving away the oncoming foes.

Merlin clenched his fists every time Matthias got too near to Arthur. If he saw even the slightest hint that the other man would make good on all his threats and lunge at the Prince, he would have used magic, and to hell with the consequences. As long at Arthur was safe, Merlin thought he would be able to bear anything.

What was it he'd once said? _I'll be happy to serve you until the day I die._ And he'd meant those words with every fiber of his being. His destiny was to stand on the sidelines so that he could help form one with a greater destiny. And did that not make him great, too?

The hard _clang_ of metal on metal still made Merlin cringe even after all this time. He forced himself to keep watching as Matthias and Arthur circled each other, one blow following another. At one point Arthur stumbled over a defeated opponent's broken shield. Anyone else, anyone who was truly only sparring for the fun of the game, would have paused and let the Prince regain his footing.

Matthias seized the opportunity and, in a move so fast even Merlin couldn't follow it, pinned Arthur to the ground. Then the dark-haired knight took off his helm and crowed, "Oh! I've bested you now, my old friend!"

"Only on the basis of luck," Arthur harrumphed genially from his position under Matthias's boot. "Help me up, would you?"

But Matthias didn't, not right away. He kept his boot on Arthur's chest, his sword on Arthur's throat. He smiled, that odd smile that Merlin knew so well, the one that was off somehow, as if a non-human was trying to approximate the expression and had gotten it nearly right.

The tip of the sword cut along Arthur's throat, leaving a thin trail of blood…

Leon stepped forward, and there was a slither of blades as the other knights took their swords halfway from their sheaths…

And Merlin watched, breathless, as the man he loved was like a helpless butterfly, pinned beneath a cruel giant. And he watched as Matthias looked up and their eyes locked. This was all for Merlin's benefit, of course. Another way of reminding him who had control in their _relationship_. Merlin may be the warlock, but Matthias had the power to take away all he held dear.

Before Leon could get more than a step out of the rank, Matthias sheathed his sword and held a hand out to Arthur. "Good fight. Old friend." Matthias said, hitting Arthur's shoulder.

And then, because Matthias was cruel, he yelled, "Merlin!" And what choice did Merlin have? He saw how betrayed Arthur looked as he trotted at the call of another man, but he had to. He had to. He was doing this for Arthur. He was doing this to spare his friend – his love.

Leon patted Arthur on the shoulder as Matthias walked away, Merlin trailing along after him.

.***.

Arthur hadn't been able to find another servant. He just couldn't bear the thought that the situation would be that permanent. So he'd taken to dressing himself, fetching his own breakfast from the kitchens, putting away his own weapons.

He passed another one of the rooms where he knew some of the knights kept their shields and such when he heard the sniffling. Arthur was a far cry from the cruel man his father was. He'd often come across younger servants who'd been teased by older ones, or had been punished by the sometimes harsh disciplinarians of the older servants. Once he'd even carried a ten-year-old to Gaius because he'd been set upon by a group of visiting knights.

So though he had about a thousand other things he could be doing, he went into the room fully expecting to find some six- or seven-year-old curled up in the corner, nursing a bruise. Already he was reaching inside his jacket for the apple he knew he'd put there this morning. It's amazing what some food could do.

But, "Merlin?" He asked, forgetting for the moment that he and Merlin were fighting, that Merlin had betrayed him. It was as if the week hadn't happened, and he'd come across his servant curled in a ball on the floor. His servant. His Merlin, who should never be hurt.

"Arthur!" Merlin wiped his eyes with his sleeve and scrambled to his feet. "I'm sorry!" He made to squeeze past the Prince and out into the corridor, but Arthur caught his arm. Merlin screamed, and that changed everything.

"What's wrong?" And though he meant to sound annoyed and angry, he only sounded worried when he reached for Merlin's arm and gently, so gently peeled back the cloth.

"Is this why you were crying?" Arthur asked, trying to modulate his voice so the disgust he felt at the sight of the torn and bruised flesh didn't scare the servant.

Merlin was about to say that he wasn't crying, but what was the point? "Matthias isn't leaving. He just told me."

"Ah." Arthur backed up, rubbing the back of his neck. He was torn between bandaging Merlin's wounds for the sake of an old friendship and stalking out for the sake of his pride and hurt feelings. "And that makes you…unhappy?"

Merlin snorted, and for a second looked so like the boy who used to tease him that Arthur felt that old pang in his chest, the one that went beyond friendship and into true love. "Nothing gets passed you, sire."

"But I thought…"

Merlin looked away, rolling his sleeve back down to cover the mangled flesh. "It's not the first time you've misinterpreted something right in front of your eyes."

"Merlin…" Arthur murmured, reaching out to him. He pulled up the servant's shirt, examined the bruises and cuts there, tried to hold back the anger. "Why are you staying with him?"

"Why haven't you thrown him out, even though you knew that this was happening to me?" Merlin demanded, equally angry. "I'm a servant! I can't go around making accusations against nobles. You're a Prince. You actually have power." _So do something. Help me_.

Merlin didn't say that last part, but he didn't have to. Arthur stared at the wall with a mulish expression, one that Merlin was used to looking at whenever Arthur turned over a particularly difficult problem. "I can't just kick him out. There are laws of hospitality, you know. He's a guest at Camelot."

This revelation made Merlin hang his head. He didn't know how he could endure another night with Matthias. Already it was difficult to walk, and Matthias had been getting more violent these last few nights, beating and hitting him as often as anything else.

Arthur had never in his life seen such abject despair, and yearned to reach out to Merlin. He stayed his hand, though, and drew back stiffly. "Will you be able to get back to the castle?"

"Yes, sire." The _sire_, and the fact that Merlin wouldn't look at him, made Arthur feel off-balance.

"Go to my chamber. Do not open the door to anyone but me. With any luck I can have Matthias gone within the hour."

Arthur had been willing to overlook some of the harsher things Matthias had done to him as a child. It had been years ago, and people change. Even when he first entered the kingdom, when he noticed some of the old tendencies when Matthias had spoken harshly to the young boy who'd cared for his horse, reducing the lad to tears.

But when it was against Merlin, all bets were off. When Merlin came to him for help, showing _those_ bruises (and Arthur felt a deep disgust rise in him at the memory of the skin, almost completely stripped away) and crying. Crying! Merlin didn't cry. He wasn't good with a sword and he tripped over his own feet, but he was neither a coward nor soft. He didn't cry.

And so as Merlin left Arthur knew that he had to get rid of Matthias, and quickly, lest Merlin be lost to him forever.

.***.

Provoking Matthias wouldn't be the hard part. The hard part was making sure the king would come by at the right moment to banish the other noble. For that job, Arthur sent Percy, the knight who'd told him about Matthias and Merlin in the first place.

"I need you to lead the king down to the courtyard in five minutes. Got it? Tell him anything. Anything. Just make sure he goes."

Percy, who had an inkling this might be about Merlin, who he saw slip into Arthur's chambers not ten minutes before, only nodded, already trying to figure out how a knight of little consequence might get a king to follow him. He ran up the stairs to the castle even as Arthur let out a deep breath and turned to face Matthias, who had regaling some of the younger knights with tales of battles Arthur very much doubted he'd won.

"Matthias!" Arthur called, trying to sound as if he didn't despise the man with his entire being (and why the sudden change? Because of Merlin? Because he'd seen the marks on Merlin's body? Was it so easy to manipulate Arthur's emotions? Apparently so, because the more Arthur thought about it the madder he became. No one hurt his Merlin. No one.) "A word?"

Matthias extracted himself from the group and loped over to Arthur, his easy grace coming across in his loping stride and arrogant expression. Arthur found it hard indeed to swallow the bile that was rising in his throat.

Out of respect for an old friendship, he decided that he would give Matthias a chance. One chance. "I need you to leave Camelot." He said quietly, so as not to cause a scene.

Matthias's eyes flashed, angry and red. "And why this sudden change of heart?"

"I cannot have anyone who abuses their power inside of these walls." Arthur said, struggling to keep his voice calm and even, remembering how all his tutors growing up had reminded him over and over to reign in his temper.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Matthias said, turning to go. Arthur caught his arm, squeezing it hard enough to bruise. He hoped it would bruise, anyway.

"Merlin."

"Is a servant, and so is probably a liar." Matthias turned to go again but now Arthur couldn't do it. His famous temper came to the fore and he lashed out, pinning Matthias against the wall.

"Temper, temper," Matthias clucked even as his head bounced off the cold stone. "What would our tutor say, old friend?"

"I am not your friend. I never was."

"Ah. I remember the first time you denounced me," Matthias said, his words calm and soothing. That was how he operated, after all. So charismatic, so charming you didn't want to believe that he could be capable of the crimes he was constantly accused of. "After that hot day when we swam in the stream together. But you liked swallowing my hot -"

Arthur bellowed and slammed him against the wall again. Now the young knights were standing up, uncertain. "You're a bully and a coward!" He hissed through his teeth.

"And are you really any different? I've seen you look at the servant Merlin as well. Do you not wish you could be the man I am, and order him to your bed?" Matthias grinned, the smile distorting his otherwise perfect face into something ugly. "You are no better than me."

"You're a monster." Arthur spat, remembering the bruises, the cuts, the lines from a whip or a belt, the tears that poured thick and fast down Merlin's face. "And if you don't want the whole kingdom knowing who you are you will leave now."

"I think I'll stay," Matthias said silkily, "I haven't finished with the serving boy yet. You do know that I only chose him because I saw how your eyes follow him around the room?" Matthias reached up a hand and stroked Arthur's cheek, sending cold shivers down his spine. "I prefer blondes."

Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur spotted his father looking supremely annoyed at being led down to the courtyard by a bumbling knight. So he did what he had to do. He choked Matthias until the other knight had no choice but to strike out.

And strike out he did. Arthur heard his father's bellow as he fell to the ground and the world went dark.

.***.

Night had fallen long before by the time Arthur got to his chambers. His head was still aching despite the remedy Gaius had concocted for him, but he was too happy with the outcome to really notice the pain. His father had banished Matthias from Camelot, with the promise of death should he ever come back into the kingdom.

_Because_, Arthur thought wryly as he climbed the steps to his chamber, _a man may abuse a servant to within an inch of death, but God forbid anyone punch a Prince_. Granted, it had been more than a punch. Matthias had hit him over the head with the pommel of his sword, which explained the large bump on Arthur's head.

He shouldered open the door and stopped short when he saw Merlin on his bed, running one hand back and forth over the covers. His heart leapt into his throat. This is what the whole debacle of an afternoon had been for. Arthur was literally speechless at the sight of his servant.

When he heard the door creak, Merlin looked up and smiled shyly. "I saw Matthias leave," the smile turned to a frown as Arthur walked into the light. "Are you hurt, sire?"

"Just a scratch. I wish I'd given Matthias more, but I was in a hurry." Arthur cocked an eyebrow. "I hope you cleaned your wounds."

Merlin shook his head. He'd been too worried about what a hot-headed, angry Arthur might do to attempt anything as delicate as cleaning the various cuts on his body. Arthur sighed and picked up the bowl of water that lay on the table, coming to sit next to Merlin on the bed.

"Thank you, sire." Merlin said quietly.

"Arthur, Merlin. Always Arthur." Arthur cleaned the cuts so delicately it made Merlin want to cry. The Prince was treating him as if he were a precious thing made of glass.

"Arthur," Merlin said, swallowing, because he earned Arthur some explanation, "I never wanted to…but he was threatening to hurt you…"

"He did the same just now." Arthur growled, deliberately avoiding Merlin's gaze even as he washed a cut on the younger boy's forehead, "Threatened you. It's his MO."

"I know you were hurt when you found us…it was a betrayal to you."

"I shouldn't have said what I did. I was angry."

"I should have tried to explain myself!"

"And I ignored you all week even though you were hurt!" Arthur finally locked eyes with Merlin and noticed he was smiling faintly. "What?"

"I think we're both trying to apologize for something that was just a lot of…jumping to conclusions." Merlin touched his newly bandaged side. "Thank you. Arthur."

Arthur could take it no more. Not the eyes, not the way the dark hair fell across the face, not the soft voice. He leaned forward and kissed Merlin. Desperately. Wanting to convey months of pent-up emotion into the action. Wanting to erase his past wrongs. Wanting to atone, to amend, to move forward. Wanting to love.

But when he pulled away Merlin looked so shocked, so…sad. And Arthur's brain jumped to another conclusion – Merlin had hated Matthias, and rightly so, the man was spiteful and cruel. But perhaps he also didn't like men, and thought that what Arthur had just done was unnatural. Perhaps he hated Arthur now, for the kiss, for daring to love another man.

Except when Merlin next lifted his eyes it wasn't anger or loathing Arthur saw in those orbs. It was uncertainty, and pain. "Arthur…please don't."

"I'm sorry if I scared you," Arthur said, grabbing Merlin's hand and clutching it desperately. "And I swear, I think I have it under control. You won't be bothered by my feelings again. I just couldn't bear it if you hated me."

"Hated you?" Merlin looked so puzzled that he ended up laughing. "Arthur, I just don't understand why you want me. I'm…" Merlin looked around, as if the right adjective would swoop out of the sky. "I'm a servant of little consequence. I'm…" he laughed a little, a hysterical giggle, "I'm clumsy, and frightfully thin, and now I'm damaged goods. Matthias -"

"You are no less of a man for what Matthias forced you to do," Arthur said gravely, "And I swear to you now on the soul of my mother that I will never do anything to harm you as he did. I could never hurt you."

"I can't help you," Merlin said, taking his hand away from Arthur's and hunching in on himself. "Why would you want me?"

"You're ridiculous, Merlin," Arthur said, exasperated. He took Merlin's fingers and kissed them one by one. "I love you. Okay? Is that what you needed to hear? I'm ridiculously, over-the-moon, completely and totally in love with you."

Merlin laughed, looking happy for the first time since Matthias had stepped foot in Camelot. "I love you too, Arthur. Completely."

Arthur kissed Merlin again, and though there was tension there (it would take months until Merlin would let Arthur touch his body, and a full year before they could lay in the same bed together. Strange, how fast and deep one person can would another…) Merlin reciprocated as best as he was able to. And then he felt Arthur's lips shake under his.

"What?" Merlin asked, smiling because Arthur was smiling.

"Gwen will be upset. She bet we'd get together on Tuesday."

Merlin smiled a little bit, eyes gleaming. "I think I can keep the secret for another few days if you can, sire."

"Say 'sire' again." Arthur demanded.

"Sire."

"Merlin," Arthur said, nearly groaning with pent-up desire.

They couldn't have kept their relationship a secret for another few _hours_. Not even if their lives depended on it.

.***.

**the end.**

**sorry it took so long to put up this last chapter. it was going to stretch into two but...eh, we wanted them to get together. they deserve that much. thank you to everyone who reviewed. we hope you liked reading this as much as we liked writing it. these two are amazing together. and arthur does the right thing in the end, as he always does. that's the important thing, isn't it? what you do at the very end...**


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